


Soft

by MadManta



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Anal Sex, Easy like Sunday morning, Love Subtext, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:27:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24636790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadManta/pseuds/MadManta
Summary: Mornings like this are rare. (Just two lazy boys in bed together.)
Relationships: Reno/Rude (Compilation of FFVII)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 136
Collections: { couples }





	Soft

**Author's Note:**

> Had a rough couple of days and just wanted something... soft. thanks to MagicalPirate for the inspo. 💙💙
> 
> challenged myself to not use any dick words. SUCCESS! Follow me on Twitter @[MantaWords](https://twitter.com/MantaWords) for snippets and fic alerts 😎😎
> 
> enjoy with some lazy jazz: <https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7EoHo4I2kXHFg0cLhxRA3l?si=ceXGFu5mQVu0lKGNMdaVQQ>

Mornings like this are rare. Rude always gets up too early, or Reno simply slips out in the middle of the night. Their connections are professional, occasionally tinged with that human need for affection that is too hard to come by in ordinary civilians.

Mornings like this, where the sun is slowly warming the room and their naked bodies twist gently to wakefulness, are the kind they both like best. Not that they would ever admit it out loud to each other.

They’d been out late, a negotiation gone wrong. Someone had been summarily executed. The cleanup was exhausting, and it had left Rude with a bundle of turmoil in his chest he didn’t know how to process. The good thing was that Reno was familiar with that pinched look on his face and had wordlessly come home with him. They washed the blood off together, foreheads touching under the shower spray, sharing a kiss or two but still quiet.

They had fallen into the bed shortly after and simply let sleep take them.

Rude hadn’t plugged his phone in. Reno had turned his off. Now they are both soft from sleep, and Reno slides closer to him in bed, letting their legs brush. Rude’s eyes are still closed, but one arm opens to the side. Reno curls up under it, cheek pressed between pec and shoulder.

Reno’s fingertips trace lazy designs over Rude’s chest, thumbs playfully flipping his nipple rings. At that, Rude finally makes a sound: a gentle laugh. Reno’s glad he can hide the stupid smile he makes in Rude’s tanned skin.

Reno lets his hand move all the way across his chest until he’s simply wrapping an arm around him. His eyes sink shut again, taking in a deep breath through his nose. He smells familiar. Safe. His arm moves up and down with Rude’s even, restful breaths. Rude shifts his arm so that he can toy with Reno’s loose hair. Rude sighs, and it’s deep and sweet.

Reno hasn’t said a word in ten hours, but it feels natural. Their communication has always gone beyond words. Tonal shifts. Eyes. Hands.

Rude’s other arm moves now, this time to reach down to Reno’s hip. With minimal effort, he slides the slim body of his partner up on top of him. Rude’s eyes flicker open, soft and amused. Reno’s hands cross at the center of Rude’s chest, and his chin rests there. He grins at him. Rude rolls his eyes and crushes Reno to his body in an affectionate squeeze.

“You good?” Rude says, his voice all gravel, but it doesn’t matter with his lips pressed against Reno’s fluffy hair.

“Mm,” Reno replies. He’s better than that, but it’s not something he feels the need to shout from the rooftops. His feelings are private, no matter how strong they are.

“What time is it?” Rude hums, freeing one arm to reach for the phone at his bedside table.

“Doesn’t matter,” Reno says, and reaches for that arm and puts it back in place. “Job’s done. Tseng knows the rules.”

Kill somebody, get a day off. Fair trade.

“How’s your thigh?” Rude asks instead, gaze focused on Reno with gentle interest.

Reno blinks at him. “Huh?” Then shakes his head. He’d been stabbed. He was so comfortable he’d forgotten. “Fine. How’s…?” _Your conscience_.

“Fine,” Rude replies. His hands slide up and down Reno’s back in a facsimile of what Reno had done to him earlier, only Reno is much more responsive. He arches under the delicate touches like an eager cat. It always gets a rise out of Rude, both humorous and amorous; Reno is so sensitive, it’s hard not to enjoy touching him like this. So much of their time together is blood soaked or rushed, but this? This is a gem, a rare gift he wants to keep for himself.

His fingertips find their way down to Reno’s butt, and he digs in. Reno chuckles, but doesn’t say anything snide — no ‘ _Finally!’_ or anything — as he’s happy to luxuriate in it. Reno’s hands do slide to either side of Rude’s body, pulling himself forward so they can share slow, inquisitive kisses. 

The best part of this is feeling their bodies respond in time; sensitive parts twitching and filling against each other. They break apart from kisses, eyes half-lidded and happy. Reno’s hair falls over his shoulders, tickling Rude’s neck and collarbone. In this position Reno’s backside is closer to Rude’s need, and he rubs back against it with an easy smile.

Rude’s eyebrows draw up in the middle. He’s questioning, but not pressuring. Reno’s smile grows a bit more lazy, and he is the one reaching for the bedside table this time. Not for a phone, but for a lubricated condom. It’s a low effort kind of morning, after all.

Reno takes care of it, easily opening it and rolling it onto Rude. Normally it’s not advisable to do it without a lot more prep, but Reno is pliant with sleepy comfort. The two of them settle against each other, and the latex eases the slow, intense stretch until Reno’s hips press all the way to Rude’s.

Reno is still above him, though now he’s more upright. The blanket has fallen away from his shoulders. Rude loves looking up at him like this, pale and red like a sun god, his own dark golden hands gliding up Reno’s long, muscular torso. Their hips move together slowly, in no rush to get anywhere.

Reno’s knees spread and he lets himself fall forward into Rude’s arms. Rude knows it’s a sign he wants him to take over, so he does. He reaches a hand between them to fist Reno while his own hips raise with quickening intensity. Reno’s voice chokes off, still no words coming out other than the whimpered sound of Rude’s name.

When the feeling of climax floods them both, the warmth that fills them both is purely emotional. Reno is panting next to Rude’s face, while Rude sucks absently at his long, pale neck.

There’s something unnameable there, but they choose to leave it. It’s easier, even when they pull apart and touch each other’s faces with tenderness reserved for old married couples. Even when Rude gazes up at him with the reverence of a worshiper, and when Reno stares at him with a longing that should be fulfilled.

Rare mornings like this make it easier to ignore the pile of bloody clothes in a hamper a room away. They take them where they can get them.


End file.
